


Proposal

by FeatherStorm



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 05:08:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatherStorm/pseuds/FeatherStorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock gets nervous, and John gets annoyed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proposal

Sherlock Holmes was nervous. It was clear in his mannerisms, his tight voice, and the way that he had snapped at John earlier this morning, telling him to get his damn shoes on before the dead body they were on their way to see rotted away. John was confused- ever since their relationship had catapulted itself from a friendship to romantic interaction on a regular basis, Sherlock had been notedly more civil, even admitting he was wrong once. Granted, it was when a drop of rain took point-six seconds longer than he had expected to reach the windowsill, but it was progress nonetheless. John couldn't figure out what had happened to change Sherlock so drastically this morning- he'd been late for breakfast, and couldn't find his coat- both extremely different from his usual behavior.   
They were in a cab now, Sherlock huddled against the window as though he were cold. They rode in silence for approximately ten minutes before John couldn't take it anymore. He turned to Sherlock and opened his mouth to speak.  
Before he could get a word out, Sherlock turned to him, eyes blazing with fury. "I'm FINE, John," he snarled. "Stop asking!"  
John blinked and turned away, slightly hurt.

Sherlock Holmes was very nervous. He could tell it was affecting his mannerisms- he was becoming over-protective of everything, particularly his coat. He'd left the small black box in it overnight and couldn't find it in the morning, and had run about in a panic until he found it hanging on the back of the door. He knew that John was worried about his behavior- he'd been particularly erratic today, snapping at him when he was slow putting on his shoes, and blowing up in the cab.  
The sound of Lestrade's voice snapped him out of his stupor of self-loathing. "Find anything?"  
Sherlock glanced at the dead body in front of him.  
"Male, mid-forties. He's been married twice, but the second one has no idea of the first." He looked again. "Had no idea. She found out…" he bent down, poked at a bruise on the man's neck, "Two days ago. pouched him in the neck. He's a banker who writes books in his leisure time. He lives in Cardiff with his wife and three dogs."  
Lestrade looked impressed. "How'd you know that?"  
Sherlock bent down and began to examine the man's hand. "I've read some of his books. The information was on the book jacket. He's also a golfer," he tossed at Lestrade.  
"Amazing," John said faintly. Sherlock smiled. "His name is Gregory H. Smith," he told Lestrade, "And he was killed by a blow to the head, most likely by a baseball bat. I think that you'll find all the evidence you need in his best friend's flat." He nodded to Lestrade and walked away, John trailing behind.  
Sherlock's distracted brain lead him to an alley, with weathered brick walls and garbage bags lying about. He stopped and looked about for a moment.  
"Sherlock."  
Sherlock spun and saw John standing, arms crossed.  
"You've been acting strangely lately."  
Sherlock strode toward him. "Are we really doing this here?" he asked.  
John pursed his lips. "You've had a much shorter temper and, frankly, have been very rude to me."  
Sherlock turned his head. "No I haven't."  
"Bullshit."  
Sherlock ignored him.  
"Sherlock, why have you been so bloody insane lately?" John demanded.  
Sherlock looked at his feet. "Because…. I love you."  
John threw his arms up. "Oh, you love me, so you yell at me? How is that logical, even to you?"  
"I do, though!" Sherlock shot back, turning to look at John. "I love you!"  
John sighed. "Prove it, then."  
"Fine."  
"Really? Fine. Prove. It."  
"Marry me."  
It just slipped out. Sherlock couldn't even believe that he'd said it.  
There was a moment of silence before John whispered, "Marry you?"  
Sherlock fished in his coat pocket with shaking hands. "Yes, marry me," he said. He grabbed hold of the box and held it out to John, who stared at it with an unreadable expression in his eyes.  
"Take it," Sherlock whispered. "Marry me."  
There was another moment of pained silence before John reached out and took the box, popping it open. He stared at the gold ring for a moment before laughing, his voice shaking. "Usually they go down on one knee," he said.  
"I was never one for traditions," Sherlock responded, his voice shaking even more than his partner's.  
John plucked the ring out of the box and looked at it for a moment. Sherlock was terrified that he would toss it aside, and caught his breath.  
Then John slipped it on his finger, and Sherlock broke out into a smile. He caught John up in a kiss, feeling himself smiling, and John doing the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Another story- I will be writing more after I finish my move-in day on Monday, as I will have free time to do with as I please.


End file.
